


Honey, Make This Easy

by shadow_on_the_wall



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Character Death, Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Heavy Angst, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29771112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadow_on_the_wall/pseuds/shadow_on_the_wall
Summary: ‘He looked mad drunk in it, maybe that was why he didn’t remember. But he vaguely remembered that night, though, and he remembered the raging hangover the morning after. Your arms were around his waist in the picture, his face scrunched up in the middle of a laugh. And you were looking up at him, a proud grin on your face, stars in your eyes shining for him.The picture blurred as tears pooled in his own eyes, a wave of pain shooting through his chest. He couldn’t breathe. His knees crash into the ground with a painful crack, suddenly too weak to hold his weight. Only his grip on the table stopped him from completely falling over.’
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Reader, Poe Dameron/You
Kudos: 2





	Honey, Make This Easy

Daylight was streaming in through the blinds, straight into his eyes. Poe groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes trying to block it out, too sluggish to get up and close the blinds. He didn’t have to before today, neither of you was usually awake for long after sunrise, either in a meeting or in your x-wings by then. But Leia gave the black squadron a few days off after a disastrous mission, so this was fine.

  
It was much colder without you pressed into his side on the cot that barely fit two people, but it was still better than his room. Poe rolled onto his stomach, trying to get a few more minutes of sleep before Snap came knocking on his door, your door, to ‘check up on him’. He scoffed at the thought. He was completely fine.

  
Sleep eluded him. He barely got some the night before too. The cot felt much larger than he remembered. And cold, did he mention cold? He pulled the blanket all the way up to his shoulders, burying his face into the pillow. Sleep still didn’t come.

  
The previous night he had knocked on your door, waiting like an idiot for you to open it. He kept dreaming of the x-wing bursting into flames, like a scene on repeat in his head. It took Poe almost a whole minute to remember you weren’t inside to open the door for him. So he punched in your code and curled up under your blanket that still smelled like you. A small comfort. He missed you already.

  
Poe was bored. He hated off days for this reason, there isn’t any fun to do in the base. What would you do? Catch up on reports, tidy up your room. He always laughed at you for it. You were almost always working. And he thought he was dedicated to the resistance.  
He sat up, stretching his arms over his head. Your room was a mess. Clothes were strewn on the floor, over the chair. There was even a mostly empty cup of caf sitting on your table. The rushed breakfast you managed to sneak the day before, running off to fulfil your duties before you could even finish it.

  
He could tidy it up for you. You’d walk into the room and see he had helped you, and you’d hug him and say thank you. And he would’ve made your day. The thought made him smile. Yeah, you’d like that.

  
He got to work after a short trip to the refresher, pulling on one of your oversized sweatshirts that fit him perfectly. It was one of your favourites, really comfortable. The thought of stealing it crosses his mind and he grinned. You won’t be happy about it.

  
Starting with the clothes, he made a small pile of all the discard ones lying around to throw in the laundry later on. Your room was a safety hazard. How you managed to not trip on something and injure yourself was beyond him. But he had spent enough time in here to learn that particular trick himself as well. Don’t take your eyes off the floor.

  
Then he moved on to the small desk when a small square of paper caught his attention. Printed pictures were rare and considered so obsolete he barely even saw any. But you always insisted on getting some in print. He knew you had one of the entire squadron and another one of your home planet. Preferring to have something you can feel under the pads of your fingers.

  
‘You can touch a datapad,’ he had replied. ‘It’s not the same, dumbass,’ you had laughed in return. They were always proudly on display in small frames.

  
He was in this one, with you. He hadn’t seen it before, let alone remember taking it. There were crease marks on it like you always kept it folded, hidden from view. Tucked away like a piece of a secret.

  
He looked mad drunk in it, maybe that was why he didn’t remember. But he vaguely remembered that night, though, and he remembered the raging hangover the morning after. Your arms were around his waist in the picture, his face scrunched up in the middle of a laugh. And you were looking up at him, a proud grin on your face, stars in your eyes shining for him.

  
The picture blurred as tears pooled in his own eyes, a wave of pain shooting through his chest. He couldn’t breathe. His knees crash into the ground with a painful crack, suddenly too weak to hold his weight. Only his grip on the table stopped him from completely falling over.

  
His lungs refused to draw air as he curled in on himself, tears running down his face. And that ringing in his ears, oh stars, he wanted it to stop. Nails dug into his palms hard and he realized he was crushing it. No no no. He was crushing your picture. You won’t be happy about it.

  
His fingers unfurled to reveal the paper within his grasp, crumpled in several different ways but still in one piece. Poe sobbed, cradling it in both his hands. He had no right. How dare he come into your space and make his mark in it. Destroy another one of the things you loved. All he did for you was a break and burn.  
The sound of someone keying in the entry code outside snapped him out of his reverie. Poe scrambled up from the floor, hastily rubbing away the tear tracks off of his face. You can’t know, you’d be worried if you saw him cry. Stars, the unmatched elation he felt, the unadulterated hope brewing in his chest. You’d come in and this absolute fucking nightmare will be over. And then he would drop to his knees and tell you that he loved you. Then everything would be fine, everything will fall into place.

  
The door slid open and-

  
“Hey,” Snap didn’t miss the way his face crumpled in disappointment in his friend’s face the second he saw him. That wasn’t a good sign.

  
Poe greeted him, placing the photograph back on the desk, face down. He took a seat on the bed and Snap dragged a chair to sit facing him.

  
“I couldn’t find you in your room. Thought I’d find you here,” he said. “Why are you here?”  
“I-” I wanted to see her. “Just couldn’t sleep,” Poe shrugged.   
  
“How are you holding up?” Snap asked.

  
“‘M fine,”

  
“It took me two hours to convince you to get out of the cockpit yesterday. And now you’re fine?”

  
“Why wouldn’t I be?”

  
“Poe, you know exactly why,”

  
“Right,” Poe picked at a stray thread on the thin bedsheet. He didn’t wanna talk about it. He didn’t want to talk at all.

  
“Look, Poe, losing a squad member is difficult and it’s weighing on all of us,” he sighed. “And I know she wasn’t just that to you,” Poe nodded along, only half listening. “All I’m saying is, you don’t have to go through this alone, we’re all here for you,” Snap concluded aware of how Poe’s attention was barely on him.

  
“I know Snap, thank you,” Poe met his gaze, hoping if he sounded convincing enough Snap would leave. He loved Snap but Poe just wanted to be left alone.

  
It hurt seeing his best friend like that. It has barely been a day but it already felt like Poe was slipping away from all of them. But Snap didn’t know how else to help other than offering a shoulder to cry on. He’d seen enough grief to know what it could do to people.

  
—

  
“What are you doing?” Poe stormed into your room where Jessika was clearing away your belongings.

  
Poe was livid. Jessika ignored her commander, stepping around him to move the rest of your things into boxes. He wasn’t having it. Poe stepped in her way again, ripping a photo frame from her grasp. Jessika glared up at him.

  
“General’s orders,” she answered in a measured tone. “It’s already been a week, we need to give her room away,”

  
It had been a week since he lost any semblance of peace. He was losing his mind without you. Your scent has long since vanished from the sheets, another part of you slipping away from him. He had a separate meltdown for that already.

  
And now all your things were being moved out and Poe couldn’t bear to see it. It’s like once the last item has been discarded, even your memory would cease to exist. He couldn’t let that happen.   
  
“Give her room away?” Poe almost screeched in indignation.

  
Snap materialized in the doorway, huffing like he ran all the way there. Neither of them noticed. There was a steady throng of spectators gathering in the corridor. People stopping short at the sounds of the commotion in the room, watching the screaming match unfold. He’d take care of them later.

  
“Get out of my way, Dameron,” she was losing patience. He had no fucking right to be mad about this. None. How dare he.

  
“You’re just throwing out her things like- like,” his voice cracked at the end, unable to say the word. Saying it would make it real. But did he still hold out hope that this nightmare would end?

  
“Like what? Like she’s dead?” she yelled. The venom in her tone almost made him flinch. Snap stepped between the two of them, hands raised in truce.

  
“Jess-”

  
“She’s dead Snap!” The pilot screamed. “And now he cares about her?” Her eyes are bloodshot too, Poe registered somewhere in the back of his mind. How this must hurt her too. She was your best friend.

  
Tears freely rolled down both her cheeks by that point. Jessika advanced on Poe, easily sidestepping Snap. Ready to deliver the killing blow.

  
“Did you know she was pregnant?” She snarled, jabbing a finger at his chest. “Did she trust you enough to tell you that?” And the blow landed.

  
Her volume was low enough that Snap was pretty sure no one on the outside heard. He watched as the colour drained from Poe’s face. A look of devastation replaced the anger on his face. Shit.

  
“Okay, that’s it. Out,” Snap grabbed Jessika by her shoulders, trying to maneuver her out of the room. Jessika was always stronger than she looked and it really wasn’t working out in his favour in this instance.

  
“She loved you, you asshole!” Jessika chucked the commlink in her hand, hitting him square in his chest. But Poe did not feel it.

  
“But you! You used her!” She screamed a final time as Snap deposited her into the corridor, still spewing curses and calling Poe names as Snap shut the door in her face.

  
Pregnant. Poe mouthed the word over and over trying to make sense of it. It can’t be. He must’ve misunderstood. Maybe Jessika misspoke. There’s no way you could’ve been with child.

  
His child. Another voice whispered in his head. The promise of a family, of a future together. Of something other than pain and death on the horizon. It can’t be.

  
Snaps turned to him. And Poe started. Waiting for him to clarify. To explain that it was just a misinterpretation. Jessika didn’t mean pregnant, did she?

  
Did she?

  
The sorrow, the pity in Snap’s eyes told him all he needed to know. You were pregnant, with his child. And he let you go on that final mission and you died as a result.

  
The revelation shook him to his core. He did this. He failed to love you the way you deserved and now he had brought more pain and death to everyone around him.  
His child.

  
“Poe?” Snap tried to shake him awake. But the entire galaxy was spinning way too fast to catch on. Poe felt sick to his stomach, unsteady on his feet. His unfocused gaze fixed on Snap’s concerned expression. “Poe,”  
He blacked out.

  
—-

  
_“Poe,” Poe drank in every breath of his name on your tongue, every whimper, moan and whine like elixir he wouldn’t get to taste again. His palm cradled your face as his mouth moulded over yours, hips working into you between your legs, over and over just the way he knew would make your eyes roll back into your skull in pleasure._

  
_You felt like heaven underneath him, wet and soft and so warm in his embrace. He pulled back to watch you fall apart under him, the familiar tell of your walls fluttering around him. The little ‘o’ shape your mouth formed, your back arching into him, and all the sounds you made, stars. It pushed him over into his own mind-numbing bliss._

  
_He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, savouring the feeling of your skin against his as you both came down from your highs. Then he drops to his side, arm around your waist, your back against his chest._

  
_“Poe?” you call out his name one more time. He hums. “I haven’t seen you in days,” he hums again. “You disappear like this so often,” you continued, the words tumbling out of your mouth. “I don’t know what happened to you, or of Leia sent you out on a super-secret mission, but you make it a point or avoiding me all day,” Poe tensed behind you at the accusation, but you continued. “Then you just crawl into my bed in the middle of the night, and fuck, I just can’t say no to you,”_

  
_“You can say no to me,” he whispers, his tone soft and smooth, trying to soothe you. You hate it. “Just say the word and I won’t come back to you again,” even as the words leave his mouth, his body betrays him, arms tightening his hold on you, not ready to let go just yet._

  
_“That’s not what I meant,” you argue. “This doesn’t mean anything to you,” you vaguely gesture in the air, thank he was lying behind you. You couldn’t get another word out when he gives you his kicked-puppy face._

  
_“Baby, we talked about this,” the term of endearment slips past his lips smoothly, pushing a needle straight through your heart._  
_“Don’t call me that, Poe,” you snapped at him, trying to disguise the hurt in your voice. “And no we didn’t talk. I said I loved you and you walked out on me,” Like a coward, he added in his own head._

  
_“Yeah, I think you should just leave,” it hurt to say those words, but fuck, you didn’t think you could do it anymore._

_A beat passed. And then two. Then Poe untangled himself from you. Wordlessly gathering his things. You heard his clothes rustling as he put them on, refusing to turn around and look at him one last time. And without a word, Poe walked out of your room._

_Again._

  
_Stubborn tears prickled in your eyes. You told yourself, ‘why are you crying over him? He never loved you. You’re better off without him.’ Of course, your heart never listened._  
_No one made you happy as Poe did. No one made love to you like they were touching you for the last time as Poe did. No one gazed at you with such adoration as Poe did._

  
_But no one hurt you as Poe did._

  
_Slowly, he chipped away at your soul every time he knocked on your door looking for some kind of outlet after a mission gone wrong, or after a nightmare. Show you a glimpse of the stars and then snatch it all away. You were just never enough for him._  
_But what hurt the most was that he was your friend. And then he wasn’t. He didn’t even want to be around you if it is not to fuck you._  
_So fuck him. Your door wasn’t going to open for him another time._

  
_The door to your room snicked shut, leaving Poe out in the empty corridor. He leaned his head against the door choking down on the lump forming in his throat._

  
_You loved him. Poe still couldn’t believe it. And he loved you too. The words sat on his mouth begging to be said. But he couldn’t bring himself to. Like a coward, he pushed you away, too scared of what the implications of your love may be._

  
_He had no hope of leaving this war alive. He wouldn’t dream of tainting you with that kind of grief. You were better off hating him. Which he was sure you did now. Faced with his own mortality there was nothing he could do. You deserved better than a headstone with his name on it at the end of it all._

  
_He knew he was hurting you and he did it still. Because when you touched him, he swore he went supernova. It was how galaxies must’ve felt like when they were made. He craved your touch like an addict craved spice, crawling back into your bed in the dead of night._  
_But he can’t anymore. He won’t. He’s hurt you enough. He needs to let you move on. Find someone else. Even if it ripped him in half._

  
_No amount of blankets made him feel warm again._

  
—-

  
It was much quieter outside the base. He missed it. Poe felt a lot more sluggish in the hustle and bustle of the hangar. His mind struggling to catch up with his thoughts, waddling through them like he’s knee-deep in mud, with rocks tied to his ankles.

  
Good thing he didn’t have to fly yet, he supposed. He was grounded after passing out the other day. It’s been two weeks since he’d been airborne. Another thing he missed so fucking much.

  
Poe took a swig from the whiskey bottle in his hand. Snap would be mad if he knew Poe had been drinking. But what else could you do if you were stuck doing reports in a tiny records room ‘until further notice’. Poe scratched his cheek, overgrown beard crunching under his fingernails.

  
The picture of you and him he found on your desk clutched between his fingers. He understood what you meant, now. He liked to touch, feel the physical copy, thin and light. It felt more personal than holograms. He had made several more printed ones in the past few weeks. All of you, much to Snap’s dismay. And yet, out of all of them, this was still his favourite.

  
Then Poe heard footsteps on the grassy hill. He hid the whiskey bottle behind him, thinking it was Snap, but when he turned, it was Jessika who stood there.

  
“You’re drinking,” she simply stated. At Poe’s confused expression she added, “I can smell it from here,” Poe sheepishly pulled out the bottle from behind his back.

  
Instead of berating him for it, she flopped down on the grass beside him, snatching the bottle from him. Poe can’t help but ask the question nagging at him in his head, stopping him from sleeping for two weeks.

  
“Was she ever going to tell me?” He asked hesitantly, pretty sure she was going to ask him to fuck off. However, Jessika’s thoughts immediately pinged back to you, a dull ache settling in her heart.

  
“I don’t know,” she shrugged at first. Then, maybe she decided he deserved a little bit of pity. “Maybe. As much as I tried to convince her otherwise, she still loved you,” she added.

“How long since…”

  
“A little more than a month, but she only found out the week before we went on the mission,” Poe took a hefty swig off the bottle again.

  
“She didn’t wanna keep it,” she added.  
Her words gave him pause. But at this point, he just feels numb. He didn’t blame her for that. It wasn’t a crime that you didn’t want your child growing up amid war, with the added risk of dying and leaving the child with no one.

  
That was if you wanted children at all. He didn’t know. Never asked.

  
You didn’t think he’d want it. How could you? He never said he loved you. Poe had no idea how he would’ve reacted if you had told him you were pregnant. Would he have finally picked up the courage to stop living like it was his last day alive?

  
You deserved better than him. You deserved to have seen this war through and have a life after it, telling your children and grandchildren about your adventures.

  
But you got a headstone with your name on it at the end of it all.


End file.
